


Call Me Maybe

by Spikedluv



Category: Taxi Brooklyn
Genre: Community: smallfandomflsh, Community: trope_bingo, Cross-Dressing Implied, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 10:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2021052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A second chance encounter in a city the size of New York can’t be coincidence, can it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> As I mentioned previously in my journal, the best part of the Pilot for me was that too-short scene between Ronnie and Officer Henderson. And so I have made fic happen. I checked AO3, ff.net, LJ and DW and I think this might be not only the first Ronnie/Steve fic, but the first Taxi Brooklyn fic. Yay me?
> 
> Written for Small Fandoms Flashfic Challenge #85: Understanding (LJ) and the Hurt/Comfort square for Round 3 at Trope Bingo (DW).
> 
> Title courtesy of Carly Rae Jepsen.
> 
> Written: July 25, 2014

The two men were still arguing when Steve Henderson pulled the cruiser up behind the taxi that was angled haphazardly off the street. He glanced over at his partner as he put the cruiser into park. They exchanged a look and then both grabbed their hats and stepped out of the cruiser. Steve set his hat on his head and rested his hand on his holster as he approached the arguing men.

“I’m not taking your skanky ass anywhere!” declared a familiar voice that Steve honestly thought he’d never hear again. “But you don’t have to worry, ‘cause it looks like your ride is here.”

The man who’d had his back to them glanced over his shoulder. When he saw them he turned back to the taxi driver, even more angry. Steve and his partner reached them just as the man lashed out. Ronnie blocked the blow and landed a pretty impressive hit of his own.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Officer David Fletcher said as he waded into the melee to separate the two men, using his size to get between the two men and push them apart. “Break it up. Step away from each other. Now.”

“That fag hit me!” yelled the man Dave herded away towards the cruiser. “I want to press charges! I think he broke my jaw.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t aim lower!” Ronnie said as he made a move towards the other man.

Steve got an arm in front of him. “Oh, no you don’t. Come with me, over here.”

Steve led the way to the front of the taxi, wanting the two men as far apart from each other as possible while they got their statements. Ronnie, now that Steve got a good look at his face, had a busted lip and, more worryingly, blood on the side of his face that looked like it might have come from his ear. Steve reached up to the radio on his shoulder and called in to dispatch to have an ambulance sent to their location.

“I don’t need an ambulance,” Ronne said, “but that asshole might when I get done with him.”

“You’re done with him now,” Steve said. “Try not to do anything to make me arrest you.”

Ronnie turned flashing eyes onto Steve. “Me? He’s the one who . . . !” Ronnie’s face did something that looked painful. “Why, Officer Henderson,” he said with an exaggerated drawl. “You never called me.” He pouted, then winced when it pulled at his lip.

“Stop it,” Steve said.

“Stop what?” Ronnie said, somehow managing to make it sound dirty.

“Flirting with me. It looks painful.”

“Just a split lip,” Ronnie said, gingerly probing said split lip.

“I called the ambulance because you’ve got blood . . . here.” Steve pointed, and Ronnie reached up to touch the side of his head, his fingers coming away stained red at the tips. “That fucking _asshole_ ,” Ronnie said. “He punched me in the side of the head.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” Steve said, taking out his notebook so he could take down Ronnie’s statement.

Ronnie looked like he wanted to balk at the request, but he sighed and said, “About a couple blocks after I picked him up he asked me to give him a blow job.”

Steve raised his eyebrows as he wrote in the notebook. “All this because some asshole wanted a blow job? Seems kind of extreme.”

“All this because I told him no,” Ronnie said. “I saw the ring he’s wearing. I’m not in to helping men cheat on their wives because they like it better in the closet, or because they think guys give better head. And besides, I was working. Did he really think I was just going to stop the car and take care of him before we continued on? Maybe add it to his fare?”

Steve stayed away from that question. “What happened next?”

“He kept pushing,” Ronnie said, “wouldn’t take no for an answer. And so I stopped the car and told him to get out,” he added with a toss of his head.

“Here?” Steve said, glancing around at the warehouses.

Ronnie smirked despite the split lip. “It’s no more than he deserved.”

Steve gave a noncommital hum. “And then?”

“And then the chicken shit punched me in the side of the head from behind,” Ronnie said, getting agitated again.

“Okay, and then?” Steve said, not wanting Ronnie to linger on that.

“I turned the engine off and got out of the cab,” Ronnie said. “I was at a disadvantage, and I didn’t want to wreck the inside of my car. I told him the cops were coming and he got out to call me some more names.”

“You called the police?” Steve asked.

“No, I hit the distress beacon and dispatch calls it in. We have cameras so they can see what’s happening.”

“How’d you get the split lip?” Steve asked. It was clear they’d done more than call each other names once they got out of the taxi.

“He tried to convince me to get back in the cab, and when that didn’t work he attempted to take the keys from me.”

“He didn’t succeed, I take it?” Steve said.

“Are you asking if those are keys in my pocket, or if I’m happy to see you?” Ronnie said.

“Are they?” Steve said, which earned him a surprised laugh from Ronnie.

“You should’ve called,” Ronnie said.

Steve felt himself blushing, more so because the words sounded more sincere than flirty this time. “Let’s just stick to your statement, shall we? I need your name, address and a phone number where you can be reached.”

Ronnie gave Steve the information he needed for his report, then cocked his hip as he leaned against the taxi. “If you wanted to know where I lived, you only had to ask.”

Steve managed to ignore Ronnie’s innuendo, but was thankful anyway when the ambulance arrived.

Ronnie sighed. “This is a waste of time. I’m fine.”

“Humor me,” Steve said. “Besides, you’ll need your injuries documented if you plan to press charges. Or if you need to defend against his charges.”

“ _His_ charges?” Ronnie said, sliding off the hood.

Steve put his hand on Ronnie’s arm and guided him in the direction of the EMT who was headed their way. “Just look him over, will you?” he told Samantha Rodriguez as he turned Ronnie over to her care. “Especially his ear.”

Steve left Ronnie in Rodriguez’s hands and headed over to where Dave was watching the other guy, whose name turned out to be Ted Miller, being attended to by Rodriguez’s partner, Paul Kim. They compared notes on the statements they’d taken which, unsurprisingly, differed in substantial aspects.

“According to the driver there’s a camera in the cab, so the detectives’ll be able to check out their statements,” Steve told Dave.

“Wanna bet he doesn’t know that?” Dave said with a gesture towards Mr. Miller.

“Mr. Miller,” Dave said when Kim was finished with the man and he’d signed a waiver stating that he didn’t want to go to the hospital. “You’re in luck. Turns out there’s a camera in the taxi, so all we have to do is get a copy of the recording from the cab company and we can easily confirm your story.”

Steve had to bite his lip and turn away when Mr. Miller’s eyes went round as saucers and he paled enough at the news to have Kim back at his side.

“What’s wrong with him?” Ronnie said at Steve’s shoulder. “I didn’t hit him that hard, and if he says I did then he’s faking.”

Steve turned and kept his face blank to hide the surprise he felt at Ronnie’s sudden appearance by his side. “Nothing. He just found out about the camera inside your taxi.”

Ronnie huffed a laugh, then he chuckled. He got laughing so hard he nearly fell over. Steve caught him.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Ronnie said. “Just got a little dizzy for a sec, no big deal.”

Steve tracked Ronnie’s eyes. “How’s your head?”

“Which one?”

Steve stared Ronnie down until Ronnie sighed and said, “My head’s fine.”

Steve pulled Ronnie over to Rodriguez. “How’s his head?”

“Don’t know, he refused treatment.”

Steve glared at Ronnie.

“I don’t have insurance, alright? I can’t afford to be checked out by an EMT, much less a trip to the ER.”

“What about Worker’s Comp?”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Ronnie said. “We’re not employees, we’re more like independent contractors.”

Steve nodded to Rodriguez, then dragged Ronnie away.

“Enough with the caveman tactics,” Ronnie grumbled as he pulled his arm out of Steve’s grasp.

“Are you illegal?”

“Excuse me?” Ronnie said, his tone dangerous.

“Is that why you’re refusing treatment?”

“What the hell?” Ronnie said. “No, I’m not illegal, just because I don’t have white skin and blond hair . . .”

“That’s not what I meant,” Steve said. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t refusing treatment because you thought you’d get into trouble.”

“I wasn’t,” Ronnie hissed. “I told you why . . .”

“Okay.” Steve held his hands up in surrender. “I believe you. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Yeah? Well, you did.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said. Movement back by the cruiser caught his eye and Steve glanced over as Ted Miller was strapped onto a gurney. “It looks like Mr. Miller is getting a ride in the ambulance.”

“Fucking faker,” Ronnie muttered loud enough for Miller to hear if the dirty look he sent Ronnie’s way was any indication. Ronnie flipped him the bird. “Maybe I should send a copy of the recording to his wife, too.”

“Don’t you fucking dare . . .” Miller said, the rest lost when Rodriguez closed the doors on him and Kim. She raised a finger in salute and then headed around to the driver’s side. As the ambulance pulled away, Steve turned back to Ronnie.

“You should call someone to come pick you up.”

“What?” Ronnie said in disbelief.

“I can’t make you get checked out, but I can make sure you don’t get behind the wheel with a head injury.”

“I told you, my head is fine,” Ronnie said.

“We don’t know that,” Steve rebutted. “Because you refused treatment. Your eyes are glassy, you just had a dizzy spell, and you’ve probably got a concussion.”

“He didn’t hit me that hard,” Ronnie muttered.

Steve pointed at Ronnie. “Make the call. Or I’ll arrest you just to keep you off the street.”

Ronnie huffed in frustration, but he took out his cell phone and made the call. Steve stepped away to give him some privacy. He didn’t listen in, but he couldn’t help hearing how Ronnie’s voice went high with annoyance before settling back down again.

“Did you ever call him?”

Steve wiped the smile he hadn’t even realized he was wearing off his face at the sound of Dave’s voice. “Call who?”

Dave just raised a knowing eyebrow. Steve didn’t blush, but only because he was too old for that shit. He hadn’t realized that Dave even remembered that. He raised his own eyebrow in return.

“He’s kinda hard to forget.”

Steve agreed. He shook his head. “No, I never called him.”

“Why not?”

‘Not my type’ was a lie, and ‘too busy’ was a flimsy excuse. The truth was, he’d been scared. Scared that what he was looking for was so far removed from what Ronnie was looking for (if the offer had even been seriously made in the first place) that they weren’t even in the same Borough. Ronnie had joked about handcuffs, and while Steve wasn’t adverse to a little bit of role play or rough sex, it wasn’t the meat and potatoes of what he wanted in a relationship, it was the dessert. For Ronnie, he feared it might be the entree.

“My roommate Leo is coming to pick me up,” Ronnie said, appearing just in time to keep Steve from having to formulate an answer.

“Okay,” Steve said.

“Are you leaving now?”

“No, we’ll wait ‘til your ride gets here,” Steve said.

“You don’t have to.”

Steve didn’t say anything.

“What, you don’t trust me, Officer Henderson?”

“Nope,” Steve said. Steve didn’t specify what he didn’t trust, which was more Ronnie passing out than getting behind the wheel.

“Think I’ll do something naughty?” Ronnie said. “I’ll have you know that I’m only bad when I’m being very, very good.”

Dave coughed and moved away from them, while Steve fought to keep from reaching down and rearranging himself. Ronnie’s voice had slipped into a sexy come-hither drawl that did things to Steve, things that shouldn’t be happening while he was still in uniform. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Steve managed to say.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ronnie mimicked. “Why is Officer Henderson such a stick in the mud, Officer Fletcher?” Ronnie asked Dave.

Steve watched Dave fight back a grin. “I think you’d be too much for him to handle.”

Before Steve could defend himself, Ronnie said, “Oh, I think he could handle me just fine,” and then he winked at Steve.

“I’m going to call us in,” Steve said. He clicked on his radio and did not listen to anything Ronnie said to Dave (or worse, that Dave said to Ronnie) as he told dispatch that they’d be a while longer at their location.

Just as Steve finished checking in, a taxi drove past and pulled over in front of Ronnie’s cab. A tall dark-skinned man Steve recognized from that day outside the bank got out of the taxi and hurried back to where Ronnie and Dave were standing. “Ronnie, are you alright?”

Detective Caitlyn Sullivan also exited the taxi and strode behind Leo.

“Leo! Yes, I’m fine, but this . . . fine, upstanding officer has a bug up his ass and won’t let me drive.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and stared Ronnie down.

“Officer . . . Henderson,” Detective Sullivan said after glancing at Steve’s name tag. “What happened here?”

“Altercation with a fare,” Steve said. “He took a hit to the head.”

“Hit to the head?” Leo repeated. “Let me see.”

Ronnie batted Leo’s hands away and glared at Steve, who let the corners of his lips twitch. Detective Sullivan noticed and raised her eyebrows.

“I called an ambulance, but he refused treatment . . .“

“You refused treatment?” Leo said, and Steve heard the word ‘insurance’ muttered more than once in Ronnie’s rapid-fire reply.

“His eyes were glassy and he had a momentary dizzy spell, so I deemed it unsafe for him to get back behind the wheel.”

Detective Sullivan walked right up to Ronnie and grabbed his jaw so she could pull his face around and look into his eyes. She nodded. “Get into Leo’s cab.”

“Here.” Steve handed a card that advertized a free clinic to Leo. “In case he gets a headache or double vision or whatever.”

“Thank you, Officer Henderson,” Leo said after taking the card and glancing down to see what it said.

Steve nodded, then headed back to the cruiser where Dave leaned against the hood, watching them all as if he was at a really good show.

“Wait, what about my cab?” Ronnie said behind Steve.

“Cat will drive it back to the garage,” Leo soothed.

“What? Oh my god, no!” Ronnie said.

“I can drive a car,” Detective Sullivan said.

“Then why is Leo driving you around?”

“Cat is a very good driver,” Leo said, but even Steve could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“Then let her drive your cab!”

“Bet he’d be a firecracker in bed,” Dave said as Steve passed him on the way to the driver’s side door.

~*~*~*~

Steve got off shift late because of a fender bender that backed up cars for two blocks and required him and Dave to direct traffic while until the first officers on the scene got full statements and a tow truck arrived to remove the offending vehicle. He turned down Dave’s invite to get a drink in favor of take-out and vegging in front of whatever baseball game was on television. He felt bad for stranding Dave on a night his wife Patty was busy with one of her various commitments – Warrior 360, this time, Steve thought – but Dave wouldn’t be alone long at Julio’s, which was where a lot of uniforms went for a drink and to unwind after work.

Outside the precinct they parted ways, Dave heading to Julio’s, Steve to the nearest subway station. Before he got there, however, Steve’s steps faltered as he hesitated. He had done a good job (for someone who carried the card with Ronnie’s name and number on it tucked inside his wallet) of not thinking obsessively about Ronnie or his possibly-in-jest, possibly-not invitation over the course of the past four weeks, but let their paths cross again in the most ordinary of ways (at least, if you were a beat cop) and suddenly Steve couldn’t get Ronnie off his mind.

It didn’t help that Dave had kept bringing up Ronnie’s name until he grew bored by Steve’s lack of response. Just in time, too, because Steve had been _this close_ to revealing just how far under his skin Dave was getting with the teasing. But now he was alone, and Steve could admit, if only to himself, that the idea of calling Ronnie held some appeal. He even had the very real (if flimsy) excuse of following-up to see if Ronnie had thought of anything he wanted to add to his statement.

The fact that he even needed an excuse was reason enough for Steve to ignore the itch at the back of his brain that had been growing stronger all day. Except Steve knew that he’d continue to think about it until he got an answer one way or the other whether Ronnie had been serious when he’d offered Steve his phone number and told him to call him. Ronnie had brought up the fact that Steve _hadn’t_ called, but that alone wasn’t enough to convince him of Ronnie’s sincerity.

Steve took out his cell phone and dialed the number he’d committed to memory the day he’d taken the card from Ronnie’s fingers despite Dave’s knowing grin. The call was answered before Steve even had time to second guess himself.

“Hello,” said a voice that sounded familiar, but didn’t belong to Ronnie.

“Hello,” Steve said. “This is Steve. Officer Henderson. I’m looking for Ronnie.”

“Officer Henderson!” the voice boomed, then lowered. “Ronnie is resting right now. This is Leo, Ronnie’s roommate. Is there something I can help you with?”

“No,” Steve said, stifling a twinge of disappointment. “I was just calling to check, er, follow-up . . .”

Steve stopped talking when he heard what sounded like a struggle for the phone and then Ronnie’s breathless voice saying, “Hi. Hello. This is Ronnie.”

To cover up what that breathless quality in Ronnie’s voice did to him (even though Ronnie wasn’t there to witness it), Steve said brusquely, “I thought you were resting.”

“I’ve been resting all afternoon. Unwillingly, I might add. I finally closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep in self-defense so Leo would stop hovering like a mama bear.”

Leo said something that Steve couldn’t make out, and Ronnie responded. “You followed me to the bathroom to make sure I didn’t pass out while taking a piss!”

Steve bit back the smile at the image that comment brought to mind.

“So, Officer Henderson,” Ronnie said, sliding into flirtation mode. “Was there something you needed?”

Steve wanted to say, “Yes, I need you to stop saying things like that,” because the way Ronnie said his name was practically obscene. Instead he said, “Yes, I wanted to check up on you, you know, make sure you were alright. After this morning.”

“Why, Officer Henderson, were you worried about me?”

“Less and less every second,” Steve said dryly.

Ronnie gave a delighted laugh, and Steve was glad he couldn’t see the sappy smile that crossed his face. “Have you eaten?” Steve said, surprising even himself with the question.

“I . . . I could eat,” Ronnie said. “What did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking . . . take out and a game on tv, or something,” Steve said. “I could pick something up, bring it over so you don’t have to go out.”

“I’m perfectly capable of going out to eat,” Ronnie said tartly, clearly smarting from Leo’s hovering.

“Humor me,” Steve said.

“Fine. Greek. There’s a great place not far from our apartment.”

“Greek it is,” Steve agreed. “Anything in particular?”

“Surprise me,” Ronnie said.

“A test?” Steve said.

“A challenge,” Ronnie replied.

Steve huffed. “Fine, but at least tell me if you’re allergic to anything.”

“I’m not,” Ronnie said. “Do you need directions?”

“I’m a New York City police officer,” Steve said. “I think I can find you.”

He heard Ronnie’s laughter as he disconnected the call. Steve looked up Greek restaurants near Ronnie’s apartment (Steve wasn’t a stalker, he just had a good memory), found the closest one had a four star rating, and checked out their menu before calling to place his order.

~*~

An hour later Steve was let into Ronnie’s building by a sweet elderly woman who interrogated Steve about what he was doing there and left him at Ronnie’s door with a wag of her finger and an admonition to ‘take care of that boy,’ with the added comment that he ‘needed a firm hand’ along with a raised eyebrow to make sure he got her point.

Steve must’ve still looked shell-shocked when Ronnie answered the door because Ronnie reached out and dragged him inside and said, “I see you’ve met Mrs. Moritz.” He waved to the woman in question over Steve’s shoulder. “Hi, Mrs. Moritz!”

“He looks like a keeper, dear,” Mrs. Moritz said.

Ronnie winked at her. “We’ll see.”

When the door was closed, Ronnie leaned against it. “Sorry about that. She’s pretty harmless. Mostly just lonely.”

Steve shook his head, but the words ‘it’s fine,’ which is what he’d meant to say, weren’t what came out of his mouth. “So, how firm a hand _do_ you need?” is what he said instead.

“Oh my god, is that what she said?” Ronnie opened the door and stuck his head out into the hallway. “Mrs. Moritz, you naughty girl!”

Steve thought he heard an old woman’s cackle before Ronnie closed the door. He might’ve imagined the quick glance Ronnie gave him before saying, “What did you bring?” and leading Steve into the kitchen, but he didn’t imagine the hint of pink in his cheeks. It was a surprise because from what little he’d seen of Ronnie, Steve wouldn’t have thought he could be embarrassed, especially by a little old lady. Hell, Ronnie had made a suggestive remark about Steve’s handcuffs the first time they’d met, and that had been at a crime scene rather than the other kind of scene.

Steve set the bag on the table and let Ronnie pull out the take-out containers. The look of wonderment when he realized that Steve had gotten a couple of his favorite dishes was worth the time it had taken him to sweet talk the information out of Mr. Castellanos.

“How the hell did you . . . ?”

“What?” Steve said, as if he had no idea of the feat he’d accomplished.

“These are my favorites,” Ronnie said, making it sound like an accusation.

“That’s good, right?”

“Yeah,” Ronnie said, as if he wasn’t quite sure. “How did you know?” he demanded suspiciously.

“Lucky guess,” Steve said.

Before Ronnie could argue, and Steve could see the arguments building up behind his eyes, Leo appeared. “Okay, I’m headed out now.”

“You don’t have to leave on my account,” Steve said.

“Yes, he does,” Ronnie disagreed, shooting a look at Leo.

Leo ignored Ronnie. “I’m not leaving because of you,” he told Steve. “I have to go pick up Cat. Detective Sullivan,” Leo amended. “But I wanted to thank you for looking out for Ronnie this morning.”

“Oh my god,” Ronnie said theatrically.

“I was just doing my job,” Steve said.

Leo rolled his eyes at Ronnie’s dramatics. “You made sure Ronnie was safe, and I appreciate that, even if Ronnie doesn’t. I also wanted to thank you for coming over tonight so I can get a break. I love Ronnie, but he’s been driving me nuts.”

“I’m standing _right here_ ,” Ronnie said. “Also, I’ve been driving _you_ nuts?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Leo grinned and winked at Steve, clearly enjoying Ronnie’s reaction. “Oh,” he said as an afterthought. “I also wanted to thank you for not actually shooting me the first time we met.”

“You’re welcome,” Steve said. “For everything.”

“Okay, enough bonding,” Ronnie said, ushering Leo towards the door. “Shoo! You’re going to be late.”

“Well,” Ronnie said when they were alone. He shook himself. “I’ll just get silverware. We can eat at the table or in the living room. Leo and I usually eat in front of the television, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“It doesn’t matter where we eat,” Steve said. “Either is fine with me.”

The last thing Steve had expected was for Ronnie to be nervous. He’d seemed so cocksure and full of himself at their first meeting.

“Why did you call?” Ronnie said, startling Steve out of his thoughts.

“What?”

“I mean, four weeks and nothing, and then today happens and you call.” Ronnie turned from where he’d been fussing with the take-out containers. “Was this a pity call?”

“A . . . what? No. What the hell’s a pity call?”

“Because I don’t need your pity, okay, I . . .”

“It wasn’t a pity call,” Steve said. “I was . . . nervous, alright? That’s why I didn’t call before.”

That brought Ronnie up short. “Why would you be nervous?”

Steve wanted to laugh at the weird irony. “Because I didn’t know if you were serious before, about wanting me to call, or if you were just . . . joking around.”

“Why wouldn’t I have been serious?”

“Because I’m not really your type?” Steve meant to say, but it came out as more of a question.

“Really?” Ronnie said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his pert and shapely ass (Steve wasn’t blind, okay?) against one of the kitchen chairs. “And what, exactly, *is* my type?”

“Someone younger than me,” Steve said, knowing he had to have at least ten years on Ronnie. “Better looking. Prefers clubbing over a night of take-out in front of the television. Younger . . . than me.”

“You said that one twice,” Ronnie pointed out.

“Yeah, well, it seemed worth mentioning twice.”

“What changed?”

Steve shrugged. “I saw you again, and you were just as aggravating as the first time. And I figured I could say I just called to see if you’d thought of anything you wanted to add to your statement if you weren’t interested.”

“Why, Officer Henderson,” Ronnie said, affecting a shocked expression. “I’m shocked. I can’t believe that you were going to use official police business as an excuse to call me. That’s got to be against some regulation, doesn’t it?”

“Are you going to report me?”

“Hmm,” Ronnie said. Tell you what, I’ll refrain from alerting your superiors to your lack of professionalism if you tell me how you knew what to order for me.”

Steve pretended to think about it. “I think I’ll keep that information to myself for now. I feel like I’m going to need an ace up my sleeve when it comes to you.”

He’d tried to sound grumpy, but Ronnie just smiled. “What?”

“Sounds like you plan on sticking around for a while.”

Steve shrugged, affecting a casual air. “This is only our first date, so that could change.”

“This is a date?” Ronnie said.

“There’s dinner involved,” Steve said.

Ronnie laughed. “Indeed there is. Dessert, too, if you play those cards right.”

Steve tried his darnedest not to blush, but from the way Ronnie’s eyes lit up he was pretty sure he’d failed spectacularly. Instead of teasing him about it, or saying something that would make Steve blush even more, Ronnie turned his attention back to the food Steve had brought. He got out plates and pushed the take-out containers to the center of the table.

“Beer or wine?” Ronnie offered. “Or something else?”

“Beer’s fine,” Steve said, and was surprised when the bottle Ronne handed him wasn’t some frou-frou beer with more hype than flavor. It was a more expensive brand than the Budweiser that Steve usually drank, but it tasted good going down.

They sat at the kitchen table and filled their plates from the take-out containers.

“So, how was your day, dear?” Ronnie said, waiting until Steve’s mouth was full to speak.

Steve raised his eyebrow while he finished chewing. “It was pretty quiet, actually, except for this one call I got this morning.”

“Aww,” Ronnie said. “Does that mean I helped liven up your day?”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Steve said dryly.

“Let’s go with that way, then,” Ronnie said, pointing his fork at Steve. “My day didn’t get off to a great start, but it’s looking up.”

Steve kept his eyes on his plate to hide the pleased expression he was pretty sure was plastered across his face for anyone to see. He glanced up when Ronnie gently kicked his ankle.

“Tell me something about yourself.”

“I’m forty-two years old,” Steve said.

“Wow,” Ronnie said, unimpressed. “This age thing is really bothering you.”

“I just . . . want it out there,” Steve said. “Because if you’re not interested in someone that old, then I’d like to know before . . .”

“Before you fall for my irresistible charms?” Ronnie finished when Steve left the thought hanging.

“Yeah,” Steve said dryly. “Let’s go with that.”

Ronnie grinned. “Now tell me something important.”

Steve swallowed hard. “I’ve been a cop for over twenty years.”

“Do you like it?”

“Most days,” Steve said. “How long have you been a taxi driver?”

“Couple of years,” Ronnie said.

“Do you like it?”

“Most days,” Ronnie said, smiling.

They resumed eating, interspersing bits and pieces of their lives into the conversation. Ronnie had four siblings, all younger; Steve had one older sister. Ronnie wanted to visit Italy; Steve wanted to see the Grand Canyon. (“We could do both,” Ronnie said, nudging his elbow into Steve’s.) Ronnie’s favorite dish was his mother’s lasagna; Steve’s was a cheeseburger and fries; they both agreed that pizza was the best anytime food.

Ronnie liked the feel of satin against his skin and boots with heels because they made his legs look good; Steve preferred jeans and soft sweaters. (Steve made Ronnie blush when he commented that Ronnie’s legs looked fine to him.) By the time they determined that Ronnie’s favorite color was purple and Steve’s a light green (“Sage,” Ronnie insisted.), most of the food had been polished off.

Steve offered to help with clean-up, but Ronnie gave him a look and told him to keep his ass in the seat. Steve didn’t argue, just leaned back in the chair, stretched his legs out under the table, and sipped the last of his second beer while he watched Ronnie put the remaining food into the fridge and wash the few dishes they’d dirtied. Ronnie turned around with a dish cloth in his hand to wipe off the table and caught Steve staring.

“What are you doing?” Ronnie asked as he wiped the cloth over the table.

“Watching you,” Steve admitted.

Ronnie gave a little huff that didn’t hide the pleased smile. “Like what you see, then?”

“Yes,” Steve said, not bothering to formulate a lie or try to come up with something clever.

Ronnie cocked his hip and tossed the cloth over his shoulder to land in the sink with a wet plop. “Know what time it is now?”

“Uh . . . ,” Steve said, brain going off-line at the way Ronnie sauntered around the table to him. He raised his arm out of the way to facilitate Ronnie throwing a leg over both of his and fitting himself snugly between Steve’s chest and the table.

“It’s time for dessert,” Ronnie said, low and sultry, as he leaned in for a kiss.

If the way Ronnie felt pressed up against him hadn’t been enough to get Steve’s body to react, the soft slide of Ronnie’s tongue across his lips before Ronnie pushed inside would’ve done it. Steve blindly reached out and set the bottle down on the table a little harder than he’d meant to, and grabbed Ronnie’s hips with both hands. Ronnie made a soft moan when Steve brought their bodies even closer together, but Steve pulled back when Ronnie tried to deepen the kiss. He placed his hand against Ronnie’s jaw and brushed his thumb across Ronnie’s bottom lip.

“Your lip,” Steve said, when what he actually should’ve been saying was, “What are we doing?” because things were moving a little faster than he’d expected them to, if he’d expected anything at all.

“I don’t care about my lip,” Ronnie said, closing his teeth on the tip of Steve’s thumb for emphasis.

“I do,” Steve said, fingers tightening on Ronnie’s hip as Ronnie sucked Steve’s thumb into his mouth.

Ronnie released Steve’s thumb and rolled his hips against Steve’s. “Been thinking about this for weeks.”

The admission caused Steve to rock his hips up to meet Ronnie’s thrusts. He let Ronnie bring their lips together again, but he kept the kiss gentle and stayed away from the cut. Steve kissed the corner of Ronnie’s mouth, then moved down to his jaw, eliciting a soft moan at the gentle bite he placed there.

“Did you,” Ronnie asked breathlessly, “think about it?”

“Not . . . obsessively,” Steve said as he kissed and bit a trail along Ronnie’s jaw and then down to his throat.

Ronnie huffed a laugh that turned into a moan when Steve sucked on the spot beneath his ear. Steve groaned when Ronnie insinuated a hand between them and tugged on his belt buckle. Steve dropped his hand from where it had fallen to curl around Ronnie’s neck and reached down to help.

“I thought we’d take this slow,” Steve said as he opened his belt to let Ronnie’s fingers at the button and zip. “Get to know each other before we . . . Oh god,” Steve moaned, head falling back when Ronnie slipped his hand inside his briefs.

“You were saying?” Ronnie said innocently as he squeezed Steve’s cock.

Steve opened eyes he hadn’t even realized had fallen shut and glared into Ronnie’s unrepentantly gloating face. “Shut up,” he said, reaching for Ronnie.

“Make me,” Ronnie panted when Steve palmed him on the search for his waistband.

Instead of replying, Steve worked to open Ronnie’s pants and slide his hand inside. He curled his fingers around Ronnie through the soft slide of his underwear. “Satin?” Steve said with sudden understanding.

Ronnie made an unintelligible sound in his throat as Steve stroked him through his panties.

“Oh god,” Ronnie groaned, then in a different tone, “Oh god. I just realized, I don’t know your first name, and moaning ‘Officer Henderson’ might not be the vibe I’m going for here. Yet.”

Instead of telling Ronnie his first name, Steve growled, “You have the right to remain silent.”

Ronnie sob-laughed. “Oh god, you suck so hard.”

“Not yet,” Steve said, glad the flush from what they were doing hid the additional heat at his bold words.

“Say something else,” Ronnie begged breathlessly.

Steve complied. “Put your hands on top of your head and spread your legs.”

“Fuck,” Ronnie moaned. “Fuck, fuck. Here, let’s . . .”

And suddenly Ronnie had freed himself from his – blue, Steve looked – satin panties and their cocks were pressed together, both of their hands around them.

“Yeah,” Ronnie said, “do it like . . .”

Ronnie’s words broke off into a soft moan when Steve stroked them both, and then Ronnie twisted his palm around the heads of their cocks while Steve moved his hand up and down the length of the shafts.

“Ooh, Officer Henderson,” Ronnie said with a high pitch to his voice that wasn’t all faked.

“Steve,” Steve said. “Steve Henderson.”

“Steve,” Ronnie said, and then repeated it.

“Ronnie,” Steve said, because this time he wasn’t calling out the name in his shower or as he emptied himself into his hand in his otherwise empty bed.

“I like the way you say my name,” Ronnie said.

“You too,” Steve said. “I mean, you. Saying my name. I like it.”

“I also like that you’re having trouble stringing your words together right now,” Ronnie said with a particularly inspired twist of his wrist.

“Fuck, Ronnie.” Steve slid his hand around to Ronnie’s ass and tried to pull him in closer.

Ronnie bent his head until his lips brushed Steve’s ear. “Have you thought about it?”

“Thought about what?” Steve ground out. He didn’t know what Ronnie was talking about now, since he’d already admitted to thinking about, well, what they were doing right now.

“My hands,” Ronnie said. “Cuffed behind my back. Bending me over the hood of your cruiser . . .”

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, pushing up into their hands, his cock sliding against Ronnie’s and creating a delicious friction.

“Officer Henderson,” Ronnie said breathily. “Please don’t arrest me. I’ll do anything . . .”

Steve bit down on Ronnie’s neck to shut him up and received a satisfying whimper in response.

“You need to stop calling me ‘Officer Henderson’ like that,” Steve said. “I’m going to have an inappropriate Pavlovian response when I’m at work.”

Ronnie started to laugh, but it turned into a sound of surprise just before he went utterly still against Steve, his cock swelling and pulsing in Steve’s hand before spilling between them. Steve milked Ronnie through his climax, releasing him when he became too sensitive. He used Ronnie’s release to ease the slide of his hand as he continued to jack himself with Ronnie limp and warm against him, Ronnie’s breath feathering across his neck. Steve’s body went hot and tight a mere moment before he emptied into his own hand.

“Jesus,” Ronnie gasped against Steve’s neck while Steve was still recovering his breath. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah,” Steve grunted in agreement. “I’m surprised this chair didn’t fall apart beneath us. It must be pretty sturdy.”

Ronnie hummed in appreciation of Steve’s humor and nuzzled his face more deeply into Steve’s neck. “We should probably get cleaned up, but I really don’t want to move right now.”

Steve didn’t want to move, either, so he was content to stay sitting there with Ronnie wrapped around him. The drying come became irritating long before his muscles were ready to function. “This is getting uncomfortable,” he said.

“Are you trying to tell me that I’m heavy?” Ronnie said.

“No, this,” Steve said, nudging Ronnie off his shoulder.

Ronnie took in the mess between them, covering their hands, their groins, and spotting both of their shirts. Ronnie stood with more grace than Steve was capable of and led the way to the bathroom, seemingly unselfconscious of his softening cock hanging out of his pants, while Steve stumbled along in his wake.

Ronnie washed his hands, and then stepped aside so Steve could do the same. He got out two wash cloths and handed one to Steve to wet under the warm stream of water. Steve wiped himself off, sucking in a breath when the cloth touched his sensitive cock, and then dabbed at the stains on his shirt before tucking himself back into his briefs and refastening his jeans.

When Steve looked up, Ronnie had finished wiping himself off and was rinsing the cloth out. He’d pulled up his pants, but apparently hadn’t buttoned them as they hung low in his hips, allowing Steve a glimpse of a blue lace waistband. Steve couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and touch it. He ran his thumb along the lace, glancing up when Ronnie stilled at the touch.

Steve caught Ronnie’s eyes in the mirror, staring at him with an expression that Steve could only categorize as parts wary and hopeful. “Can I?” Steve said.

Ronnie nodded carefully, though Steve hadn’t specified what he wanted to do. Steve set the wash cloth beside the sink and placed both of his hands at Ronnie’s hips. He looked into Ronnie’s eyes as he slid his hands down, taking Ronnie’s pants with them, the material sliding easily over the satin of his panties. He lowered his gaze as Ronnie’s pants slid down over the curve of his ass and caught his breath at the sight of blue satin stretched over his cheeks.

Steve set his hands on Ronnie’s ass and slid them over the silky smooth material, taking special notice of the way the blue looked against Ronnie’s skin. Steve caught Ronnie’s eyes in the mirror. “Will you turn around?”

Ronnie swallowed hard and nodded, and then did as Steve asked. Steve left his hands on Ronnie so that he brushed his front as Ronnie turned. Ronnie’s softened cock was tucked snugly beneath the satin, but Steve took a moment to imagine how it would look as Ronnie’s cock filled, eventually swelling to a size that couldn’t be contained by the flimsy material.

Steve slid his hand across until he held Ronnie in his palm. Ronnie’s breath caught, and when Steve looked up into his face Ronnie was biting his bottom lip.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to get it up again so soon,” Ronnie said, stumbling over some of the words as Steve caressed him through the satin.

“Me neither,” Steve said. The thought hadn’t concerned him before, but now it did. “Besides, I’ve got an early shift.”

Ronnie moaned softly when Steve’s thumb teased the ridge of his cock, and Steve felt his own cock stir.

“I could set an alarm,” Ronnie said. “We could take our time.”

Steve suddenly wanted nothing more than to see Ronnie spread across his mattress with only the strip of blue satin covering him. “Yeah,” he said, “okay. But only if you promise to leave the panties on.”

Ronnie somehow managed a sultry smirk. “Why, Officer Henderson,” he said as he slipped his hand around the back of Steve’s neck and leaned forward to brush his lips across Steve’s. “I had no idea you had such hidden depths.”

Neither had Steve, frankly, but he didn’t say that. What he said was, “There’s a lot you still don’t know about me.”

“Mmm,” Ronnie said. “That sounds like a challenge. Are you gonna give me a chance to . . . plumb your depths?”

Steve paused in the process of sliding his hands beneath Ronnie’s ass so he could lift him. “That was really bad.”

Ronnie pouted.

“But yes.”

Steve might’ve termed the pleased smile that comment earned him as almost shy if Ronnie hadn’t been trying to shove his hand into Steve’s jeans. Steve kneaded Ronnie’s ass and nibbled at his throat as Ronnie struggled with lack of room to move his hand. Finally Steve took pity on Ronnie, as well as himself.

“Not that I don’t like the idea of having sex in every room of your apartment, but maybe we could use the bedroom this time?”

“Such a lack of imagination,” Ronnie said, but he took his hand out of Steve’s jeans.

Ronnie lifted his shirt over his head and kicked off his pants before leading the way out of the bathroom. Steve’s gaze locked onto Ronnie’s ass like a heat seeking missile and he ran into the door frame as he exited the bathroom. Ronnie chuckled, but didn’t bother turning around.

“Shut up,” Steve muttered. “I am graceful like a fucking gazelle.”

“Yeah?” Ronnie said, glancing over his shoulder at Steve before disappearing into what Steve presumed was his bedroom. “Do gazelles fuck like rabbits?”

Steve had no idea, but he figured they were about to find out.

The End


End file.
